The Dirtiest Blood
by ll.ChestnutKey.ll
Summary: With every war or revolution, extremists will always be on both sides. Takes place after the epilogue. Rating may change. Please read and review!
1. Scorpius 1

**There will always be a certain element of extremists on either side, left or right, who no mainstream news outlet is going to satisfy.**

**-Jonathan Klein**

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**Disclaimer: If you people think I'm JK Rowling, then you're insane.**

Scorpius

I had never understood why, but my parents had always encouraged me to join my mother's House. Of course she told me that it really didn't matter where you were Sorted, as long as you were happy there, but I could always tell she silently agreed with my father. Still, they never said why. I never heard much about Slytherin House, except from my granddad reminding me it's been in the family for centuries. He liked to tell me stories about his school years, and when I asked him if it had changed and that was why my father didn't want me in there, he said no. It was the same wonderful Hogwarts House as it was sixty years ago, as it was thousands of years ago, and as it always will be. I concluded that my father's taste simply wasn't the same as my granddad, and I should probably let the Sorting Hat decide where I belong, and as long as I wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor, my granddad wouldn't convince my father to disown me.

Still, I was very scared. I wondered if the Sorting Hat would place me in that dreadful House, just to be mean. My parents never really talked about it much, since neither of them had been Gryffindors, but my granddad often told me terrible things about it. However, he told me many terrible things about everything, so sometimes it was hard to tell what was actually bad. For example, sometimes he would say blood purity determined how good of a wizard you were, but then again my father once mentioned that the most skilled witch of his Year was a Muggle-born, so it couldn't really be true. I decided to figure it out for myself once I got to school. Unfortunately, there was so much to learn once I got there, that I worried I would forget about all the things I intended to figure out!

And so there I was, at the station and scared as hell about not learning enough. _At least_, I thought to myself, _I am adopting a good schooling attitude._

Although the train had already arrived there on platform nine and three-quarters, I couldn't bring myself to the door. All of my friends were at least a year younger than me, though I didn't have too many to begin with since I had grown up through homeschooling.

My mum smiled at me, easily recognizing my discomfort. "It's alright, Scor. Hogwarts was some of the best years of my life. You'll love it." I smiled back at her nervously. My father pat my head, and told me the same.

"But I'm going to miss you." My mum's smile faltered, and I could tell she was going to miss me a lot, too, but she didn't say anything. "I'm going to miss him, too." I pointed to her belly, which had been growing steadily for the past few months.

"How do you know it's a boy?" she asked me.

"Because I know." I crossed my arms in a matter-of-fact way, and she rolled her eyes. I think she wanted a girl, though. My father once told me that most women do.

And then he gave me a rare smile, and he said to me, "Just because you'll miss it being born, doesn't mean you won't get to see it when you come back." He was right, but I still wanted to meet the baby. "Go on, then. We'll write to you as often as we can." I nodded, and took the remaining courageous steps it took to get to the train. With one last goodbye, I waved my hand, and then quickly hauled my luggage through before I could change my mind and run back to them.

The compartment I chose was completely empty. Since I didn't know anyone, and the compartment would have to be filled by somebody, I decided to let fate choose my new friends.

Sooner or later, two nervous looking kids that looked about my age entered. The one in the lead was a slightly more determined looking red-haired girl, and the other was a boy with shabby black hair who wore a much shyer expression. I opened my mouth, ready to give them a welcoming "hello", but I quickly stopped myself, realizing they were in mid-conversation.

"I just don't understand why we couldn't have sat with our cousins! We're only two years younger than James and Louis." The red-haired girl seemed pretty upset. Her arms were crossed and her ears were turning slightly pink. "Now we don't get to sit with anyone we know."

The boy bit his lip. "You know I can't sit with James. He thinks I'm going to end up in Slytherin. You know I just can't. My dad said that it doesn't matter, but what if I do?" I stared at the boy, amazed. He was turned off by my father's family House, too. Perhaps that really did mean there was something bad about it.

"Being near him isn't going to make you any more likely to end up there," she said, but then her voice softened, and gained the same reassuring tone my mum used sometimes when I was upset. "You don't need to worry about it. We'll both end up in Gryffindor for sure." I felt a sudden distaste for them. My granddad told me Gryffindors were obnoxious, arrogant, and any other bad name you could call a wizard. He said that one even made him give the family's old house elf a sock! I'm not really sure what that means, though.

The boy shrugged, unconvinced, but didn't say anything else about it. "This way we'll make real friends, instead of clinging to family the whole time." He looked at me and pointed. "Look! He looks good."

I jumped, and gave the pair a small smile. "Hello. I'm Scorpius Malfoy." The girl snorted. "What?"

"You have a funny name."

My jaw dropped, appalled at her rudeness, but did my best to keep calm. "Care to tell me yours?"

She smiled brightly. "Rose Weasley." When the boy didn't speak, she introduced him as Albus Potter. Suddenly, a look I couldn't quite understand spread across her face. "Now wait just a minute! You're the boy my dad pointed out!"

I blinked, confused. "Is he mental?"

"Excuse me?" There was an edgy quality in her voice that made me want to smile. "How the hell did you decide that?"

I shrugged. "I just think it's weird that your fathers pointing me out to you." Quickly, she pulled her hand over her face, but I could still see it well enough to tell she was blushing. "What did I say? You're acting like he told you to marry me or something."

For the first time, Potter spoke. "Actually I overheard him telling her to _not_marry a pureblood." He seemed quite pleased with himself for giving out this bit of information, especially because it caused her to make a small noise and shudder, but there was still a quiet tone in his voice, as if he wasn't sure whether he was allowed to speak. I couldn't blame Weasley for feeling embarrassed, because that made me embarrassed, too. Perhaps, even, a little bit ashamed.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong with being a pureblood?" I hoped to God they wouldn't misinterpret my question.

Thankfully, they didn't. Weasley's face returned to its normal color, and she shrugged. "I don't know. My dad is, and I don't see anything wrong with him. I guess they just have a bad reputation, like how people used to call Muggle-borns 'Mudbloods' because they weren't pure enough, except the opposite." It sounded as if she had done a lot of research on the subject, the way she talked about it. I began to wonder if they would make up a cruel nickname for purebloods, too. I sure hoped not.

"I'm sure some people still say that word," I told her, thinking of my granddad. He said it all the time, but I'd never known exactly what it meant, because my parents were always unclear when I asked. They always sort of shooed me off and only said for me not to say it. (Of course, this meant that, as a child, I would say the word constantly just to annoy them.)

Weasley sighed, and I got a feeling that she already knew that. "Anyways," she said in a high voice, clearing her throat to make it obvious she wanted to change the subject, "my dad was telling me to beat you in every test. He wasn't just pointing you out to be mental or anything."

I stared at her for a second, wondering why she had decided to bring that whole thing up again, when suddenly Potter burst out laughing. He was in absolute hysterics! I thought something must be seriously wrong with him. Weasley's face began to match her hair, and I think mine might've, too, because I had a feeling he was also laughing at me. What was his deal, anyways?

We actually ended up having great fun on that ride. Weasley and Potter turned out to be quite alright. When the train attendant came with food, the pair was quick to pull out money to trade for sweets. It made me feel embarrassed to not have much money to spare. I pulled out a few coins and bought a single chocolate frog so they wouldn't figure out my family situation. I didn't want to look poor on front of my new potential friends.

"That's it?" said Weasley, pointing out my single sweet. "Well, now I feel like a pig." She, herself, seemed as if she was covered with sweets. Pumpkin pasties, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, licorice wands, and more, toppled over the two of them. Even more, Potter had pulled out a box of sweets from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"No, it's okay. I ate before the train, so I'm almost stuffed," I lied. Then, I proceeded to open the chocolate frog, ready to hungrily devour it, when the frog launched itself beyond the window, and out of my reach. I did my best to shield my disappointment. Pretending I didn't care, I pulled out the card, hoping it would be a good one. I frowned.

"What's wrong?" asked Potter. "Not the one you want?" I shook my head. "Too bad. That happens to me a lot. Whenever I get a really good one, my mum steals it, too." He ripped open one of his, completely ignoring the escaping frog. "Now that will never happen again!" he exclaimed triumphantly. He held out a card to Weasley, with the happiest look on his face."

"Albus Dumbledore," she said in a monotone.

Potter's grin fell to disappointment, and he began to closely examine the card, as if he was expecting it to transfigure itself into something else. "I get him all the time. He's probably the most common card. All the old ones, especially, come up a lot."

I wasn't very interested in the rarity of Potter's namesake. "Why does your mum take your good cards away?" Chocolate frogs seemed like a silly thing for someone's mum to be interested in. "Which ones does she take?"

"I don't know," he said. "Every time I get one, she opens it for me. I'm not allowed to open one by myself. Neither is Rose. My brother can, though, and it's not fair." Their families seemed weird. My parents had raised me to be independent, which wasn't achieved by them opening my sweets. "Who did you get, anyways?"

I held out my card. "Some woman I don't know about. She had something to do with the war, but I don't really know what it was about. My father fought in it, so he doesn't like to talk about it. He says it brings back too many bad memories."

As Potter continuously stared at the dumb card, Weasley gave me a sympathetic look. "Our parents were in the war, too. They don't like to talk about it much, either. No one in our family does."

"I think most families were involved one way or another, at least in Hogwarts, because the last battle took place there," I said. Weasley nodded her head in agreement.

"Rosie," Potter said anxiously, completely unfazed by our conversation. "The card!"

Weasley frowned. "What about that stupid card?" she asked, obviously annoyed with his lack of attention span.

"I think we found your mum's doppelganger! See?" He showed the card to Weasley. "It looks just like her." She rolled her eyes at me, smirking, and then turned her head to look at it. She gasped, the doubt completely washed from her face. "What?"

"It's not her bloody doppelganger, Albus! It's her," she exclaimed. "Look. 'Hermione Granger,'" she read. "It really is my mum."

All three of us were blown away. "Well, it must have something to do with the war," I said, amazed that I could possibly be sitting with the children of war heroes-real heroes, not just people who were involved. "What's it say?" I could hardly contain my excitement.

"Wait just a minute!" Weasley exclaimed. "I haven't read it." Just as she flipped the card to the other side, a boy similar in appearance to Potter burst in, and we all jumped.

"Oh, God, you!" Potter shouted. He was absolutely, positively startled.

The older boy smirked, clearly enjoying our surprise. "Actually, the name's James, but I understand the confusion." He flipped his messy black hair, and chuckled to himself, while we all stared at him blankly. I realized exactly why Potter didn't want to sit with this James. He was an arrogant bastard.

"What are you doing here?" Frustration dripped from Potter's mouth. "Go sit with your friends."

"I was, but-" He froze, and I followed his line of sight. He was staring at the card. All amusement drained from his face, and he cussed under his breath. Before either Weasley or Potter could do anything about it, he snatched the card away. "Oh! You found my card," he said a little too quickly, and he laughed nervously to himself. "What'd you read on it?" His voice had changed to a more serious tone.

"It's Aunt Hermi-" Weasley kicked Potter. "Nope we didn't see anything on it. Lily must've put it in my trunk and thought it was mine."

The boy coughed. "Oh, yeah that must've been it." Even if I hadn't been the one to have gotten that card, I would've known he was lying. "Just my Morgan le Fay. 'Lost my other one, so I don't want to lose this one, too." I hoped he would give me my card back after we got off the train. He sat down next to me, giving an awkward smile that could have been charming, if not for the situation. "So you're Rosie and Albie's new pal, aren't you?"

I snorted, and Potter shot me a dirty look. "Albie?"

He laughed. "It's just the family nickname for him. No more convenient than saying 'Albus,' but it annoys the hell out of him." He pinched his cheek for emphasis. "I'm his brother, James Potter." He gave me a firm handshake. "I'm a Second Year in Gryffindor. Hopefully I'll see you in the common room." I gave a weak smile, knowing my granddad would kill me if he did. "Rosie's my cousin. You'll find a Weasley in every house except Slytherin, so you'll make friends with at least one of us no matter where you are." I nodded, hoping they were all like Potter and Weasley. "You're going to love Hogwarts! Oh, and what's your name? If you have older siblings, I might know them."

I shook my head. "No, I'm an only child at the moment, but I'm going to have a little brother soon." I noticed Weasley smile when I said that. "My name is Scorpius Malfoy."

He frowned. It wasn't a mean frown, but one that showed he was deep in thought. "Malfoy . . . Malfoy . . . That sounds familiar. You don't have any family that was involved in the war, do you?" he asked.

"My dad and my paternal grandparents," I said. "Why?"

"I know I've heard that name somewhere, and you learn about the war a bit during history. Professor Binns made someone write a list of names split up by each side, but everyone was asleep. I just happened to wake up towards the end when they were erasing them." I couldn't understand how anyone could fall asleep during history, when it was so fascinating.

"How come he made someone else write it up?" I asked.

"Because he's a ghost who doesn't know how to stop teaching. I wish he had moved on like the majority of wizards when he died, though, because he's bloody boring. That way he could've made way for a more fun teacher." I had never met a ghost before. "So are you aimed for Gryffindor like Rosie is?"

"I am too!"

"We all know you're going to end up in rotten Slytherin. There's no use pretending." Potter looked very upset, but his brother was clearly only teasing.

"My parents want me to be in Ravenclaw, but I don't think I really care," I said. "I don't know anyone who goes there now, so there isn't anyone in particular that I hope I end up with." Weasley and Potter looked offended.

"Fair enough," he continued, "but hopefully if you're not in Ravenclaw, you end up with us." The other two nodded in agreement. "I'm guessing that's your parents' House?"

I nodded. "My mum was in Ravenclaw, but my father was in-" I stopped myself, remembering what they thought of his House. "Yeah, they were in Ravenclaw."

"You sure? Because it sounded like you were going to say something else. It's okay if he was in Hufflepuff, you know. Some people think they're pathetic, but they're really not. One of my cousins is a Hufflepuff, and the most popular girl of her Year."

I shook my head, ashamed. "To be honest, he was in Slytherin." Then, before they could process what I had just said, "But he really doesn't want me in there so he must have absolutely hated it."

The three of them just looked at me quietly. Finally, Weasley piped up, "Which side was he on in the war?"

"Obviously he was on the side that won! Otherwise he would be in bloody Azkaban! He-" But then I stopped myself. I had never thought to ask. Never once had I questioned my father's honor as a good person. He had never mentioned anything about the war except the basics, not even his own part in it. Probably because it was self-explanatory that he was on the good side. "My father doesn't believe blood purity matters."

"If you say so," said Potter's brother darkly, "but I've got my eye on you." He left our compartment, and I stared at my feet.

A few minutes later, Weasley broke the chilling silence. "It's alright, Scorpius. I'm sure he just doesn't want you in there because all the other Slytherins were evil. He must've been one of the few good ones, and that would have been very lonely for him. He probably just wants you to have friends with the same morals, because he couldn't."

"I hope you're right." I felt bad for calling them by their surnames in my head all that time, and made a mental note to change that from then on.

"I know I'm right," she said, and gave me a smile.

To cheer me up, Albus gave me his Dumbledore card in order to compensate for my lost one that James stole. I didn't have a Dumbledore, either, so I was pleased all the same. Albus said he was going to steal it back from his brother for me, but I told him he didn't need to. I wasn't an avid collector of chocolate frog cards, so it didn't matter too much to me. "Suit yourself."

The rest of the train ride was relatively uneventful. We changed into our robes, and discussed our excitement until the train docked at the Hogwarts station. The sky was black by the time we got there, and the three of us were groggy from such a long trip, but when we got out to have our first taste of Hogwarts air, and caught sight of the brilliant castle off in the distance, all our drowsiness vanished.

A large man clothed in dirty robes and a messy beard held up a lantern, waiting for us. "Firs' Years! Firs' Years, follow me," he called, beckoning us with his guiding light. As Rose, Albus, and I crowded towards the man, as I took another deep breath of the fresh air. This was it. My wizarding life had just begun.


	2. Albus 2

**Disclaimer: I'm not a British person.**

Albus

I found myself at the front of the crowd of First Years waiting to enter the Great Hall. It wasn't that I had intended to be there instead of the slightly less intimidating back of the crowd, but Rose and Scorpius were excitedly standing up front, ready to drink up every word the young Deputy Headmaster Urquhart had to say. He was a tall man in very clean looking dark robes. His head was shaved, giving him a very tough appearance, but his smile made me hope that perhaps he wasn't. Once all of us had assembled, he began to speak.

"You are about to be Sorted into your Hogwarts House," he explained, as I, as well as many of the other First Years, took a huge gulp. "They are Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff. Each one of these Houses is looking for a particular group of traits such as resourcefulness, wit, bravery, and loyalty, respectively. Once you have been Sorted, the decision is final, but don't hesitate to make friends elsewhere. Your House will become something like your family, as you compete with others for points in order to win the House Cup. I hope you will be a credit to whichever family you become a part of."

I didn't dare to think about how my Sorting would go. Every time I tried, I only became more and more fearful of how it would turn out. Rose squeezed my arm, and I smiled weakly at her. "We've got a whole twenty-five percent chance of getting in!" she encouraged. "You really don't need to worry about a thing." She was actually being completely serious when she said that. I didn't understand how her words could possibly help.

Soon enough, the doors opened, and I nearly choked. It was magnificent! Five humongous tables stretched across the room, each filled with excited faces. I found Victoire as I passed the Hufflepuff table, and she smiled prettily at me. However, I didn't like all the eyes bearing curiously into me. Perhaps they were making bets on which of us would end up in their House.

As I drew closer to the end, I noticed people were beginning to fix their eyes on something ahead of me. It was an old . . . I wasn't quite sure what it was. It seemed to be a blob of fabric with parts burned off. My Aunt Hermione had once told me it was a hat that Sorted you, but it didn't look anything like one. Then I noticed a larger hole towards the middle pop open, and give out a huff.

Everyone stared at that hat for a long time. Even the Professors at the head table seemed confused. Whispering out broke among the students, and I began to become concerned. After ages of waiting, a large walrus-like man at the middle of the head table stood up and began clapping. The rest of the staff weakly followed his model, as Professor Urquhart unsurely said, "Sit on the stool to be Sorted as I call your name." He unrolled a large scroll, and the hat gave a huff of contentment. "Ackerley, Maxwell!"

A very small nervous boy quickly scrambled forward onto the chair. He accidentally sat on the hat, before squeaking loudly and readjusting it properly to his head. There was a short pause before, to my surprise, a raspy yet audible, "RAVENCLAW!" shook the room. The table second from the left cheered to welcome their new member. Then, "Boot, Harriet" and "Bradley, Jerry" joined him soon after.

A few students after that, "Dakota, Sean" became Hogwarts' first Gryffindor. I wondered whether or not he and I would be friends once I had hopefully joined him at the Gryffindor table. Soon enough, "Dare, Caleb" joined him at the furthest table to the left, while "Elliot, Emma" was Sorted oppositely into the Slytherin House.

I decided to stop paying attention to the Sorting. It was making me too nervous, and it was rather difficult to keep it out of my mind while it was actually going on. Only did I tune in again when I felt Scorpius push past me.

"Cross your fingers," whispered Rose, and I did so to make her happy.

We stared at Scorpius for what felt like ages. His pale face was scrunched in sincere concentration. Then, he opened his eyes with the most scared look on his face that I had ever seen, and I had only a moment to guess what was wrong when the hat screamed "SLYTHERIN!" The Headmaster clapped happily, and I frowned.

Next to me, Rose gasped and whispered, "I was so sure . . ." as Scorpius slumped off the chair and made his way towards the far left table. "I thought he was so sweet." I mentally agreed with Rose. Even with my dad's comforting words about how my namesake Severus was a Slytherin, I had a feeling that the whole bunch of them was an unpleasant lot. James and my Uncle Ron always told me about how awful they were.

From then on, I decided to pay better attention to my new classmates. I wanted to make good observations of them before almost making friends with the wrong sort again.

Looking around, I could see that there were significantly less people than starting out, and a lot of previously empty seats were now full of First Years. I spotted James and Louis at the Gryffindor table, and despite my dislike of them, I appreciated their willingness to save two spots for Rose and me. I pointed it out to Rose, and she gave out a sigh of relief. Despite all the cousins we had at Hogwarts, both of us had been extremely worried about finding anyone we knew. Neither of us were the best at making friends, me being so quiet, and her being such a nerd.

"Mays, Scott!" A really tall boy towards the back scooted forward to put the hat on his head. Despite the pressure of the Sorting, he seemed really calm, as if he either didn't care where he ended up, or he already knew which House he belonged. It didn't take long for the hat to decide, "GRYFFINDOR!"

I wondered if I should be acting calm, too. Perhaps the hat could actually see us, and it was evaluating our actions? Maybe the confident boys and girls were sent to Gryffindor, the smart-looking ones to Ravenclaw, the ones that seemed menacing went to Slytherin, and the ones clumped up with friends went to Hufflepuff. I wished I'd thought of it earlier, seeing as I'd been standing right in the front with Rose, scared as hell. I straightened up and moved a few inches away from her, hoping she wouldn't notice.

"Millicent, Tristian!" Just then, the sweetest little girl popped out of the group and tried on the hat. She had a nervous smile on her face, but I could tell she was excited. Some other girl standing next to me gave her a thumbs-up, and she gave one back in return. She would end up in Hufflepuff for sure. "SLYTHERIN!" The girl's grin grew even bigger, as she ran to join Scorpius' table-No, Malfoy's, I reminded myself. He was my enemy.

I simply couldn't understand it. How could the hat send that girl somewhere as awful as Slytherin? Maybe she'd pulled someone's hair as a joke or something while waiting to be called. Soon enough, her friend, "Nare, Berdetti" joined her at the Slytherin table, despite looking equally as qualified for Hufflepuff.

"How do you think it does it?" I asked Rose, forgetting my decision to move away from her. She shrugged, but didn't say anything. She was too fixated on the emotion and excitement of the Sorting. She might've been imagining herself in Gryffindor robes.

I looked around me, and I realized how much smaller the group of First Years was becoming. There might have been hundreds when we first entered the Great Hall, but now there was maybe twenty or so people left. It was becoming more and more nerve-wracking, but the Sorted students seemed happy enough. Malfoy had been the only student I noticed to seem disappointed.

"Nott," "Novis," "Nye," . . . "Oaden," "O'Brian," . . . "Ore," "Oxeman," . . . It was getting so close! "Periwinkle," "Plume," . . . Rose suddenly snapped her neck over to stare wide-eyed, straight at me. At last, she was becoming scared. The closer we got to our names, the more we worried we got that we would be separated. Judging by our other cousins, both of us knew that students weren't Sorted because of parentage. I started to hold my breath, realizing I could be called up in any second. Then, something terrifying crossed my mind. What if I ended up in Gryffindor, just like I wanted, but Rose, not only being in a different House, ended up in Slytherin instead? _Should I shun her if that happens?_At that point, I didn't know what to do.

"Post, Zachary!" As a pink-faced, blond boy made his way to be Sorted, my ears started to ring by the consistent sound of Professor Urquhart's calls. 'Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, . . .' I began to repeat over and over in my head. "GRYFFINDOR!" the raspy voice called, and I found myself extremely relieved until I realized it wasn't me.

"Potter, Albus!"

Rose squeezed my shoulder, as I forced myself to take a few slow steps forward. I looked back at James at the Gryffindor table. "Slytherin, Albie!" he shouted. He and Louis started laughing, as well as their surrounding friends. I told myself just to breathe, and that everything was going to be alright.

As I sat, Professor Urquhart lowered the hat onto my head. I immediately felt that my hair had been soiled with soot, and I grimaced.

"So," I froze, gripping the sides of my seat in shock, "You're the newest Potter. Your kind have been coming here for centuries, now haven't they? Welcome."

"Oh, uh, thanks," I found myself saying aloud. I noticed the unSorted First Years glance at me nervously, probably worried about why I was talking to myself. But I wasn't! I was talking to the hat . . .

"Now, where to put you, eh?" The dumb hat was talking to me like I was an object. "That's extremely offensive, Mr. Potter," the hat said dryly, and I bit my lip, mentally apologizing. "I see you have a bit of smarts in you, but I wouldn't say a Ravenclaw . . . No you're definitely not a Hufflepuff . . ."

I began praying as hard as I could, 'Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!'

"But why?" asked the hat. You would do so great elsewhere. You're not a Ravenclaw clever, but you're the cunning kind . . . resourceful, even." An awful chill ran down my spine. "Are you sure? Very well." I gave the tiniest of smiles. All was well. I had won. "I'll let you see it my way."

"What?"

And my voiced echoed across the hall, fear tracing the sound so suddenly, that no one had enough time to process the mere idea of why I had spoken, when a booming sound shot past my ears, and the Great Hall went silent.

I felt the dirty cloth release its weight from my head, and I took a few more hazy steps forward. I stared back at James, who wasn't laughing anymore. I looked back at Rose. Her expression was unreadable. Then, a few seconds later, I heard a few small claps coming from the Slytherin table. Malfoy had started it, and spreading from the people surrounding him, everyone else joined in. They were polite claps, but at least they broke the terrible silence. Headmaster Slughorn, however, clapped much more joyously than he had for any other student. Professor Urquhart pushed me forward, and I made my way to the now fourth Hogwarts House that members of the Potter-Weasley family populated.

As I slowly made my way towards the table, I noticed Malfoy smile a little, like a sparkle of hope had lit itself inside him, but I absolutely refused to smile back. I still took my seat next to him, though, seeing as if not, I'd probably end up sitting next to an even more horrible person. "At least I'm not alone over here," he said to me, although I chose to ignore him. _The less I talk to these people, the less of their evil I'll absorb,_ I decided.

"Robinson, Christian" was called up immediately after me, and the shout of "GRYFFINDOR" rang in my ears, taunting me.

"At least there's one bright side to this," said Malfoy, as I pretended not to pay attention to him. "We didn't end up in that House." A flash of anger shot through me, and I snapped my head towards him so I could glare at him. "Well, I mean, that's where you wanted to go . . . I mean . . . my granddad–"

"I don't give a shit about what your granddad says."

"Oh, yeah, me too." The blonde boy looked down at his empty plate, where his reflection sickly stared back at him.

Robinson's twin brother was then quickly Sorted into Hufflepuff, along with a few other students following his name. Afterwards, a few more mean looking kids sad around me, sneering at each other and seeming to fit into the Slytherin evil reputation. I realized that there were only two students left: a tall brunette girl, and Rose.

"Victors, Julia" called Professor Urquhart, sounding tired from all the yelling. The girl made a _huge_ yawn before letting the hat be placed on her head. It was only a few moments pause when the hat shouted "HUFFLEPUFF" and she happily joined her table.

I crossed my fingers as Rose's name was called. However, I didn't even need to, as the call of "GRYFFINDOR" shook the room after barely brushing against her flaming red hair. Although I was happy for my cousin, a prick of jealousy stung me. What made _her_ better? What made _her_ good? Why did _I_ have to be the bad egg, when it could've been _her_? I watched her sit next to James, and be congratulated by the surrounding students. James and Rose glanced back at me. One of them had a face as hard as stone. The other was smiling, but aimed at me, it seemed fake. It didn't even matter to me who was doing what. I turned away.

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	3. Albus 3

**I'm sorry it took so long! I was on vacation for pretty much all of July and I just got back. I know this chapter is short, but it's better than nothing. I'll try to upload something again soon.**

**Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, and am simply using her ideas to create my own story.**

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Albus 4

It was nighttime in the dormitories, and no one was allowed in the Common Rooms at such a late hour. At the desk in my dorm, there were stacks of parchment, as I sat there, scribbling on them, fearful of my parents. Perhaps if I complained about how awful Slytherin was, my parents could understand?

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Hogwarts is terrible. The Sorting Hat is a pile of crap and put a load of soot in my hair, and then it decided to make me a dumb joke of a person by placing me in Slytherin! I am NOT a Slytherin! I don't belong in a place where everyone is evil enough to talk about how high and mighty "He Who Must Not Be Named" and "You Know Who" are. I don't even know who they bloody are, yet they keep asking my standpoint on who should've won in the last war. Obviously I think the good guys who won should've won!_

_Rose and I met this great Malfoy guy on the train, but then it turned out tha_

Nothing was good enough. I wrote and rewrote my letters, hoping my parents wouldn't react too badly. How could I sooth the matter over? Maybe if I pointed out everyone else's flaws . . .

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I'm in Slytherin. I don't know who to trust, because everyone around me is evil! Everyone glares at me and questions your honor, just because you were on the side that won. A 3__rd__ year named Zabini was yelling at me about how the majority of his family was in Azkaban prison because of you but I _

No, I wasn't going to get anywhere with the truth. If I really wanted my parents to accept me, I had to lie, and be the child they all wanted me to be. I decided to insist upon my Gryffindorness. What would my raw emotions be? I decided to start out simple, and maybe I would elaborate as I went on.

_Mum and Dad,_

_I became a Gryffindor, just like you wanted me to! I am so excited. They gave us our Gryffindor robes right away, so I can show them off to James and Rose, and then anyone who isn't part of our House. I'm really proud of myself. I'm so glad that I proved James wrong! Because I am not a Slytherin! There is absolutely no way I am. I am doing well in my clas_

No that was terrible. It was much too forced. I couldn't simply deny that I was Slytherin! I thought about what would happen if I were Gryffindor. Rose and I would skip to our classes with huge smiles on our faces, and then we'd study together, as we'd have all the same classes; not just a few. I hated school, but at least I'd be in Gryffindor. Then, we'd get to the best part of school: flying lessons. I already knew how to fly a broom, so I'd be excellent. I searched my mind for the things I should say.

_Dad and Mum,_

_James is teasing me as usual. He keeps telling me that me being Sorted into Gryffindor was a mistake. When I woke up all of my bed sheets, clothes, and even my wand was colored green and silver. When Rose found out she immediately told Neville and he scheduled James for a detention with him tomorrow night. Don't bring it up to him or anything though, because he's going to get mad at me for telling you. Actually, I was talking to Louis and he said that James might be telling some untrue things about me in his letter. I mean, for example, he might say I'm actually in Hufflepuff or something—A House that I am most definitely not a part of._

_I am enjoying all of my classes so far. Actually, I think I have a knack for potions. You mentioned that Severus was the Potions professor in your day so maybe I get it from him. I guess that doesn't really make sense, but maybe people named Severus just have knack for Potions class, you know?_

_I'm not just following Rose around everywhere, too. I made friends with a boy named Sean Dakota. We have many common interests. An example is that we are both in Gryffindor, and, as I'm sure you both realized in your Gryffindor days, Gryffindors have many things in common. We played Wizard's Chess together, but I beat him! Plus, I've got loads of other friends here._

_However, one of Rose's new friends was Sorted into the House she least wanted to be in, and would like some advice on what she should do. She is a Muggle-born, so she asked us to ask our parents for advice on the situation. You should definitely reply with advice as soon as possible._

_Love,_

_Albus_

Scribbled letters lay crumpled around my bloody green bed and along the floors of the Slytherin dormitories. My roommates were sound asleep except for Malfoy, who was staring at me from his bed with a half-opened eye.

"Yes, Malfoy?" I inquired, as I blew the ink dry. He shifted so as not to face me, and hid his head under the covers. "Malfoy, I know you're awake."

The blond boy groaned. "Fine, you caught me. What do you want?"

"To know why you've been spying on me," I told him dryly.

"I haven't been spying you—watching you, maybe, but not spying." I raised my eyebrows, and he shrugged. "Okay, fine, you can call it whatever you want, but I'm curious about what you're going to tell your parents."

"You know, it really is not any of your business." I turned away to seal my final draft, but out of the corner of my eye I saw him open up one of the crumpled letters.

"How do you think they're going to react?" he asked, after he scanned through one of the first ones I'd written. I shrugged in reply. "I'm sure they would've sent a Howler by now if they really minded. _Someone_ in your family is bound to have told them by now." And that was something he was right about. I had delayed writing to them for a whole week, and now my parents were sure to have found out about my Sorting from one of my many cousins. Then again, they hadn't written to me yet, either. Maybe they were shunning me. Maybe they disowned me without letting me know. My false letter I was about to send would clear the whole matter up.

I hid the last letter under my pillow so Malfoy wouldn't discover the contents, and quickly told him that we should talk about something else. "What about you?" I asked. "How did your parents react? I thought you said your dad hated being in Slytherin."

"He did," Malfoy confirmed, "but he reacted all right. He told me that he actually had a great time in Hogwarts at first, so I don't really see why he and my mother wanted me to be in Ravenclaw so badly. My granddad is absolutely thrilled though." The more he talked, the more cheerful he got about it, but I still couldn't understand how anything could possibly have warmed him to the thought of being in Slytherin. "Your family is going to react fine. Just look at mine."

"_Your_ family has been in Slytherin for centuries. _Your_ family is full of Pureblood _oafs_ with your Pureblood _pride_ about having the same amount of _bloody _magic as _everybody _else!"

Malfoy's jaw dropped, and just as I was satisfied with my angered spurt, he shouted, "Well, just because I'm a Pureblood doesn't mean I think I'm better than all the _Mudbloods_ or whatever! If I recall correctly, _you're_ a Half-blood, which means that somewhere in your ancestry line, someone was a Pureblood and still liked a Muggle or Muggle-born, so _obviously_ we're not all prejudiced!"

"Mudblood? You even say the bloody word!" I yelled back at him. "Only prejudiced people say things like that."

"Are you bloody serious? I used it for emphasis not for _bloody_—"

The floors resonated with a loud thump the moment he cut out, and just as the triumph of winning an argument rushed through me, a sharp rock unsuspectingly whacked me in the head, and knocked me over. I placed a hand on my wound, and felt a small amount of sticky red fluid creeping down my skull. "_SHUT. THE HELL. UP!_" another First Year screamed. "I'm trying to bloody sleep!" He threw another rock at us for good measure, and I heard Malfoy yelp quietly in pain.

We waited, silent on the ground, for what felt like hours. Finally, when could safely assume the attacker was fast asleep, I whispered, "Malfoy?"

It took a moment for him to register, but at last he replied. "Yes?"

"Well, um . . ."

"Get on with it."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I guess I am. I'm bleeding a little, but it's fine. He had a mean throw." I silently agreed.

"Who was that, anyways?"

I had to think about it for a moment. "It might have been Millicent." I said his name extra soft, just in case he heard it and woke up again. Thankfully, we only had four students in total in our dorm room. With the overflow of students, most Slytherins had six or seven roommates. The other kid in our room was a boy named Richard King, but he never talked. It was almost as if he wasn't even there.

Malfoy's breathing became even, and I realized he was asleep. Because of the throbbing in my head, I stayed awake and looked up to the ceiling. It was shimmering, like I was staring at the night sky from underwater. I got the creepy feeling that someone up there was watching me. No, it couldn't be true.

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